Mommy and Me: à Genève

Alors, mom was meant to get in at 6pm on Thursday.  As soon as I returned from my errands, I received a phone call from Flo telling me that since it was snowing so ridiculously, I ought to encourage mom to stay in Geneva for the night.  When I went to the kitchen for the interwebs, I found an email from maman telling me that her flight from Amsterdam to Geneva had been delayed because they had to de-ice the plane.  After I finished reading that one, I saw another email had just arrived from her saying she was getting her car and hitting the pavement (or the snow that was laying on top of the pavement).  I immediately phoned her to tell her to try to stay in Geneva because even though I was dying to see her, I didn’t want her to get lost in the mess that is France in snow.  She didn’t answer so I started to wait.  A few hours passed when suddenly my phone started a-ringing and mom was at the Carrefour down the road!  So I stayed on the phone with her and tried to give her directions as I put on my boots and coat to get downstairs for the greeting.  Mom said she thought that she was outside as I was running down the stairs and as the tears started welling up in my eyes.  She managed to find me.  We were both crying when we hugged. 

            I got in the car and we started driving around to see where we could eat.  As we drove, she told me the saga of her journey.  Basically, it took Mom nearly an hour and a half (I think?) to get out of Geneva and into France.  Then she got down to Chambéry somehow because there’s rarely adequate signage in this piece.  Anyway, while down there, naturally everything was closed/closing.  She saw a couple leaving a Carrefour down there and asked them for directions to Belley.  Guy generously offered to lead her halfway to me.  And that’s how it went down. 

            We managed to find a restaurant that still had lights on and so we roamed around looking for parking for a bit before mom wiggled into a spot with her oft-displayed parallel parking prowess.  Into the Chinese restaurant we went.  While mom took advantage of the toilet, I asked if they could accommodate two people, figuring it was easy peasy as there were empty tables and the place was essentially hopping.  “Non,” the man said.  Uh, okay.

            So we went to the other restaurant that had been lit up but by the time we arrived there, it was also closed.  So on we went to the brasserie next door to ask for some food.  Nope.  So we ended up getting two glasses of red wine.  Not so good. 

            As we came to the roundabout right before my lycée/home, we drove around 2/3 times before deciding to go to McDonalds so we could at least eat something.  (Don’t judge.  The average lycéen/high school student will go to Macdo 3 times per week because it’s cool.  This is an actual truth.)  So we went to the drive through and ordered the special advertised on every window at the Macdo.  They were out.  How is this possible?  So we got the other special.  FYI, it wasn’t the American, which is a burger in a bagel.  This is not American.  But apparently bagels are decidedly so.  So we took it back to the internat and had a picnic on the bed before going to sleep.

            The next morning, Flo called bright and early about the luggage that was to be delivered (because oh, did I mention that the airline lost mom’s luggage?) but it was just after the company had called mom and we had decided to go pick it up at the airport on our way to Geneva.  Mom and I ended up sleeping until about 10:30.  I decided to give her the grand tour of Belley so’s we could be on the road by 11.  HA.  Jokes.  (But not really.) 

            As soon as we got outside, it started snowing again.  So I showed her the main roundabout in town (which was in front of the brasserie where we had had deux verres/two glasses), some of the historical buildings in town (including the birthplace of Brillat-Savarin), the female wolf that is the mascot(?) of Belley, the patisserie where I tutor, the fromagerie where we got some cheese to bring to Flo, the library (which was obvio not open), and the Cathedral.  As expected, she loved the Cathedral.  You know what I didn’t love?  How cold it was in there.  It’s called heating and it’s time they caught on.  We saw a few more things (aka random old buildings) before finishing the tour.

"You have thick hair.  Like a wolf"

Then we decided to hit the road to Geneva since we didn’t know how long it would take with snow and everything.  We couldn’t decide which route to take to Flo’s: the small roads that seemed most direct, the big ones that would take longer but were more likely to be cleared, a made up route.  At the last minute, we decided to live dangerously and go small routes based on directions Mom had printed off and my map-reading skills.  It went swimmingly. 

Sometimes I thought we was lost in Siberia!

            We got to the airport and went in to claim the lost luggage.

Mom: Quelqu’un m’a téléphoné pour récuperer ma valise. (Someone called me to come get my suitcase.)

Guy: C’était pas moi qui vous a téléphoné.  (It wasn’t me who called.) with a smirk.  But then he went to get her bag.

            Back out we went to use Flo’s directions to get to her house.  For the most part, okay.  When we got to the last turn, though, Flo had said to turn right by a fountain.  There wasn’t one.  When I felt like we had gone too far, I said we were supposed to turn.  Huzzah!  I was right.  So we parked and got out.  We looked at the fancy Christmas decorations all over the place: big wooden cutouts of Bethlehem and the Three Wise Men.  Behind each set of decorations: a fountain. 

            We hemmed and hawed in the entryway of the auberge for a bit before someone asked what we were doing/what we wanted.  We asked for Olivier, whom mom had thought she saw in a meeting in the dining room.  But he was actually out, so they told us we could go up to the Martins’ apartment.  We went up, first to our room, and mom unpacked the massive amount of things she had brought for me: fuzzy socks, normal socks, popcorn, letters from home (so lovely), Christmas presents, requested articles of clothing, Emergen-C, etc.  Basically a bounty.  We went across to the Martins’ apartment to see about some lunch as it was nearly 3pm now.  But we felt a bit awkward about it, so we went down the road to a restaurant we had seen.  Whooooooops.  It was closed.  Even though the lights were on.  So we went back to the auberge and looked in the cupboards to see about making some cookies.  Because when there’s no real food to be found, cookies usually come in handy.  We couldn’t really find most of the ingredients that we needed and so we made a list.  Then I went on the interwebs to see where there was a market nearby and off we went.  While at the market, we picked up some apples for lunch. 

            We headed back and I set to making cookies straight away.  By this time, Gregoire was home from school and was helping himself to some panettone.   As I was finishing up, Olivier came upstairs with a glass of wine for mom and told us that we’d be meeting Flo at a skating rink nearby as she was having an outing with some friends, “Les Gamins.”  Mom and I had actually been dreading going ice skating as its neither of our cup of tea, but we wanted to seem up for anything.  So, Mom drove Olivier’s car with me, Antoine, and Greg inside and we headed to Coppet (not far) for fondue and skating.

            When Mom and I arrived, we were thrust into speaking French as we sat down with Flo’s friends.  (Flo wasn’t yet there.)  We were seated next to Flo’s friend Mouna who has family in Los Angeles.  She mentioned wanting to set me up on a friend date with a British girl who’s working/living in Geneva.  Since I love British people and need all the friends I can get, I eagerly said yesplz! 

            Flo arrived and got in on the fondue action.  She asked if we wanted to go skating and we said no thanks.  And she was all, “Good.  Me neither.”  Saved! 

            Eventually, we headed home for some zzzs. 

            The next day (Saturday), mom and I slept quite late.  After we had showered, Mom went outside to find a note from Flo saying that she had taken Antoine to get some shoes but that if we went downstairs, there was some breakfast waiting for us.  So down we went and the waitress/hostess woman whose name currently escapes me showed us into the café and then brought us a basket of breads and a tray full of Olivier’s homemade jams: 2 kinds with quince, raspberry lemon, amaretto peach, nutella but richer, grapes and rum, orange, and a few others.  So good.  She also brought us a pot of tea.  About 10 minutes after we had sat down, Flo returned and had a spot to eat with us. 

            When we had stuffed ourselves full enough, Flo said it was time to hit the road as she wanted to take us around a bit.  So we hit the road and made a drive along Lave Geneva, stopping to take photos of the vineyards.  At one point, Flo pointed out this little island in the lake that has a single tree on it.  It was planted for the Queen of England.  Sorry.  But I forgot my camera in Belley.  All these photos are courtesy of my mamita. 

We wound our way along the vineyards and the coast to Montreux, a Swiss town known for its jazz festival.  We got out and took some photos with the statue of Freddie Mercury, who considered Montreux a haven.  

I swear I wasn't in agonizing pain even though this photo would suggest otherwise.

We made our way along the waterfront Christmas market while sipping on some Christmas tea with a rum floater.   Gotta get warm somehow, right?  So anyway, part of this Christmas market was waay expensive out of my league.  Like, they were selling these fancy knives that I’ve never heard of, antiques, jewelry, antique jewelry, and the like!  It really just goes to show just how right Kawai’s boyfriend Greg was when he said, “The Swiss are just like the French but with more class.”  I have yet to see anything that suggests otherwise.  Oh wait.  Except Swiss people are nonstop friendly.

            Anywho, we went into this covered section of the Christmas market where Mom and Flo got some vin chaud (which is delicious and not to be confused with mulled wine, which is not) and some pretzels.  I, on the other hand, had this thing with goat cheese.  Noms and warm.  Can’t get mad at it.  Flo also bought a hat.

Flo in hat.  Mom with first vin chaud EVAAARR!!

            We chatted for a bit and then crossed the street to get to even more of the Christmas markets.  They crazy for this mess over herre.  But it’s really a nice tradition.  It’s surprising Amurrica ain’t jumped on that bandwagon.  There’s money to be made.  The cold is no excuse.  Did you see the snow going on?  (Though we actually had lovely weather on Saturday.)

Looks different in the dark and in
 the winter.  Use your imagination.

            We took a walk along the lake back to the car where we then zoomed over to Lavey-les-Bains.  Hot springs!  In the snow!  In the mountains!  It was crazy.  Well anyway, so we looked for parking for a bit before finding a spot.  We went inside and got a token so we could get a locker.  Then we each waited for a changing room, which is where the transition is made.  We went through.  I was all modest slash completely confused so when I came out I was wearing socks, my coat, and my swimsuit.  Surely I looked a mess.  And I felt idiot too when I noticed that there was a constant floor cleaning machine being driven around.  So my socks were wet.  Upon seeing me, Flo laughed.  So did momz.  Whatevs so they had already put their stuff in a locker.  I found one too.  Guess what the number was.  696969696969696969!!!!  It was a great day for locker-finding.  Mom even made a joke about how it’d be easy to remember.  (69 will never stop being funny.  Thank you, Bert.)  

            We went into the next room and rinsed off before going into the first big pool.  You started off inside and then went through refrigeration plastic like they have at Smart & Final/supermarkets where they can add more from the back and then go out into the real world.  It’s a rough transition, but it’s gorgeous to be in the water looking up at the mountains all around.  So we used the jets there for a bit before we moved onto the next outdoor pool that was even larger and supposedly warmer.  (I am doubtful still.)  We went in the water than kind of pushed you around in a circle and I went for a foolish little jog in it.  We eventually extracted ourselves from the current and went to lay on the jetbeds they have.  Interesting.  But also made me more susceptible to the biting cold.  No dice.  We went to the “hot tub” part of the outside area.  Nice until some fools started splashing.  Don’t wet my face, foolz!  On we went to these huge faucets they had.  Mom leaned against one for the pressure until dude next to her got too close to his and started spraying his water all over the place.  Most importantly, all over my hair and face.  There goes staying warm.  Because, guess what, wet hair + cold air = disaster.  So then we goes inside because indoor pools are always nice.  Eventually we go to the hamam.  Now, if anyone knows anything about me, it’s that I didn’t apply to UC San Diego because it smelled like the zoo (read eucalyptus).  This hamam smelled like eucalyptus too.  But it was done right.  What can I say?  So we stood in the middle for a bit waiting for a space to sit.  I forgot to mention that it was crazy crowded the whole time we were there.  We eventually peaced and went exploring a bit to see what other treats the place holds.  We went into this steam room.  Nakeds inside!  No peeling allowed.  Mom and Flo didn’t notice everyone in there was nakey.  Welp.

            We decided it was time to get going and rinsed off and hopped in the car to get back to Flo’s where her sister Marion was waiting for us.  We went to another Christmas market.  This one was in a château at Coppet.  Coldest place yet.  Without a doubt!  We were literally walking on ice the whole time.  I can’t believe that people actually work at these little huts and stay there ALL DAY.  I would die.  I can barely even last for more than an hour.  I blame poor circulation.

       We then went for some grub with Flo’s friend who had met us there.  It was in this space that is usually a greenhouse, but for this weekend it was a restaurant that offered 3 dishes: moules et frites (mussels and fries), choucrout (Alsatian specialty of many meats), and one other thing that they were out of.  Moules it was!  Also had some wine because that’s just real. 

            The next day we slept in pretty late again.  (Theme!)  When we got up, we had some toast with jam.  Maybe this seems repetitive to you.  Too bad.  Those jams are MY jam.  baBOOM!  Anyway, we also had soft boiled eggs.  A meal that I have come to associate with Flo.  They are delicious.  I also cracked mine incorrectly and spilled the yolk.  Great day.  The weather outside was frightful so we stayed inside.  I made cupcakes with Antoine while Mom and Flo cut cloth for the foie gras that Olivier sells during the holidays.  The measurements were incredibly precise and it really took them ages to finish it all.   Then I helped Antoine with his English homework because oh wait, that’s my JOB.  Many cupcakes were eaten.  Not by me per se.  But by Antoine and Greg.  And Greg’s friend Axel.  Because did you know that cupcakes are uniquely American?  Imagine your life without cupcakes.  Is there light?  Do people smile?  Probs not.  Anyway, when the Martins paid us a visit in the US, we had cupcakes all the time because Greg and Antoine had grown to love them because their Canadian au pair would make them. 

So many dynamos!  (Dynamos means casks in this case.)

            We then went to take a tour of Olivier’s alcohol making cellar?  I don’t really know what to call it.  But it’s this room in the basement of the auberge where he keeps the casks of the rums and things that he makes.  They smell beautiful.  He told us the backstories and everything but it’s all very complicated and I generally don’t understand how things are made.  Anyway, blahblahblah it smelled good.  We then went back to the apartment to kill some time before dinner, which Olivier was cooking. 

            IT WAS A MASTERPIECE.  Here is the menu.

Design done for Olivier's restaurant.

Menu written specifically so I could reference it in the blawg.

Course 1: Terrine de lapin aux sdets (?) et pistaches / Rabbit terrine with something and pistachios

Course 2: Tartare de chevreuil aux airelles / saladine aux noix (Venison tartare with cranberries / nut salad)

Course 3: Emulsion de foie gras de canard /  intrusion de poivre Serawetz (Duck foie gras emulsion / Serawetz pepper?)

Course 4: Oeuf de poule en cocotte aux truffes de Bourgogne (Chicken egg in hen with Burgundy truffles)

Course 5: Boudin de volaille vapeur aux chataignes / Mousseline d'Agrie et jardinet de légumes (Poultry blood sausage steamed with chestnuts /  essentially mashed potatoes and small garden of vegetables)

Course 6: de "Mojito" récomposé (Recomposed Mojito)

Course 7: Crème brûlée à l'"Or des Anges" (translation not required.  Or des Anges is the liquor that Olivier makes.)

He wrote the menu and then told this nice story about Picasso.  He said, did you see I gave you my signature?  We nodded.  Apparently one time Picasso went to a café and the owner was there.  Oh, Picasso, I love you.  Blahblahblah as people are wont to do.  And owner goes, "Give me a painting and your meal is on the house."  Picasso obliges because he's too legit to quit.  He hands the owner a painting.  Owner's all, "Buddy.  Where's your signature?"  
           Picasso replies, "You said you'd give me a free meal.  Not the restaurant."  ZING!

To bed then.  Next morning we set off around 9:30 since I have class at 12:00.  We made it back and washed up a bit before getting to the teachers' lounge a few moments before class started.  Mom and Flo met Marc.  Marc, of course, complimented mom on her French.

        We then went to my Euro class.  Mom and Flo went to sit in the back.  I said to my students, “As you can see, we have some visitors today.  Can anyone guess who they are?”

            Marie, one of the best English speakers, said, “Inspectors?”  I laughed and told her no and that they could relax.  And she said, “No.  You can relax.”  Zing!

            Mom called from the back, “Can you guess where we’re from?”

            Eventually they guessed Los Angeles, and Marie whispered to Lia, “Is Los Angeles in Las Vegas?”  Well.  We can’t be good at everything.  They figured out she was my mom.  Surprised looks to be sure.

            Then they had to guess where Flo was from.  US?  Canada?  Belgium?  Eventually got Switzerland.  Well done.

            After class, the three of us went to lunch and had some traditional Belleysanne fare.  And massive salads.  Flo hadn’t seen the cathedral so we took her to see it.  And to see the library.  It wasn’t open.  I don’t know why I continue to mention that, as it is more likely to be closed than open.  We kind of rushed around a bit as I had class again at 3.  Flo and Mom dropped me off in front of the internat.  It was a rushed goodbye and I couldn’t shed too many tears as I was about to go run a class. 

            It was really a beautiful visit.  But just way too short.

Bittersweetly,

            Juice

Thanks for stopping in.  Bai!